GOLF: So Close, and Now So Far Away; In 1990, Mike Donald Nearly Won the U.S. Open; Today, He's Begging to Play on the Tour

By LARRY DORMAN,

Published: February 2, 1994

HOLLYWOOD, Fla.—
In the small, sparsely furnished family room of the house where he grew up, Mike Donald slides a videotape into the VCR. He is holding a remote control in his hand, fast-forwarding into the past, to a summer day more than three years ago when the course of his life was altered forever.

The figures on the screen snap into focus. One is immediately recognizable as Hale Irwin, trim and fit, his graying hair stylishly cut. The other looks vaguely familiar. His open and friendly face, the one with the Kirk Douglas dimple in the chin, is topped by a Wilson visor. He has the slight paunch of a man who enjoys a beer every now and then and the reddish countenance of a golf pro who has spent his life in the wind and sun. It is Mike Donald, and he is on the 14th green at Medinah Country Club outside Chicago in a Monday playoff for the 1990 United States Open Championship.

"This is where I have him by two shots," Donald is saying, waving the remote at the screen. "I thought it was over here when I made birdie."

The picture whirs into fast-forward. And the memories come flooding back. Yes, that was where Mike Donald thought he had him. That was where everyone thought he had him, right there. Maybe, just maybe, it was happening, Everyman was ascending to the pinnacle, the blue-collar pro, the son of a garage mechanic, had won the U.S.-by-gosh-Open Championship. But, as the rest of that day and the intervening years have vividly demonstrated, fairy tales not only don't come true, sometimes they punish you for believing they can.

Irwin caught Donald on the final four holes, then won on the first extra hole. And today, the same Mike Donald who stood on the doorstep of golf immortality at Medinah is struggling for his golfing life. Last year, after he missed the cut in 11 straight tournaments for his golfing life. Last year, after he missed the cut in 11 straight tournaments and won just $51,513, he lost his Tour card, his sponsorship deals and what was left of his confidence. He failed in his attempt to regain his playing privileges at the qualifying school last December, and in some darker moments since he has thought about quitting the game.

This week, Donald is in the field at the A.T.&T. Pebble Beach National Pro-Am on a sponsor's exemption. That is how he must get into tournaments now, by writing letters to sponsors asking for one of their eight exemptions, by hoping that someone will put in a good word, maybe remembering that Donald supported their tournament back when things were going well for him. This is the only way for him to rebuild his golfing life.

If only things had happened differently on those last four holes, or on that one sudden-death hole; he would not only have reaped the benefits that come with winning an Open championship, but he would also have gained the automatic 10-year Tour exemption that goes with it.

Instead, Donald is 38 years old and on the fringe of the game, a 14-year veteran with no card, no golf-club contract, no bag deal, no endorsements at all. One Week on Top of the World

If only. Those two words almost always pop up in conversations with Donald. Things have a way of returning to that day, that week, when Donald knew where the ball was going every time he stepped up to a shot, when the whole golf world was captivated by his story and when his face was on national television. If only. Two strokes up, four holes to play, and there's Donald looking a little sheepish as his face fills the screen.

"You know, it's some feeling when you're out there playing for a national championship and all those people are yelling and screaming," he is saying on the videotape. "It's hard to even imagine all those people being that excited about my golf. Not too many people in a lifetime get an opportunity to live their dream. Yesterday I was living my dream and you can hardly ask for more than that."

Over at the table in the corner, Donald's father, Bill, 68, is nodding at the screen. He crushes out a cigarette and lifts a can of beer. He had been a celebrity that week, too. There were television crews wanting to come by the modest three-bedroom house where he has lived since 1959, raising Mike and his younger brother, Pete, and their half brother, Art Marler. There were newspaper interviews and calls from long-forgotten relatives and friends.

"You know," he says. "that was a hell of a week." 'It Basically Haunts Him'

It is difficult to know whether that week was blessing or curse for Mike Donald. In some ways, it was both. Even he is ambivalent about it. So are his friends and one of his teachers, Johnny LaPonzina, who is the general manager of the Bonaventure Resort and Spa in nearby Fort Lauderdale, where Donald sometimes practices.

"One less stroke in a golf tournament a few summers ago and his whole life is different," LaPonzina says. "That thing is still with him. It basically haunts him."

Until that week, Donald had won one official PGA Tour event, the 1989 Anheuser Busch, as well as the J. C. Penney mixed team with Vicki Alvarez. He was always a fair ball-striker and, when he was on, a good putter. After his rookie season, he had never failed to finish in the top 125 on the money list.